


Slade's First Time

by scandalsavage



Series: SladeRobin Week 2018 [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Costume Kink, Identity Porn, Kinda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 22:04:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: It’s Slade’s first time for a few things today. Sacrificing a little dignity to get at some of them is a price he’s willing to pay.Stretching the whole ‘virgin sacrifice’ thing as thin as it will go.(Also, this was so close to non-graphic. I think like only one or two sentences ruined it.)





	Slade's First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was so close to non-graphic. I think like only one or two sentences ruined it. 
> 
> So short because I keep writing longer, darker shit and I'm burning out and just needed something quick and fun.

“I can’t believe you’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely your kinda thing.”

Slade glares at the both of them. This is the dumbest fucking thing they’ve ever done. It is definitely not ‘his kind of thing’.

Dick and Jason are grinning at him like assholes. No, not ‘like’ assholes, like the assholes they most certainly are.

They look ridiculous. But still not as ridiculous as Slade.

He fidgets uncomfortably.

“It’s not like you haven’t worn it before,” Dick says, barely holding back his laugh.

“Yes, but that one was made for me. It fit. This is too small.”

“You don’t say,” Jason snorts sardonically.

Slade takes a swing at him, but the too small armor restricts his movements and Jason doesn’t so much dodge him as lazily step out of the way.

“If something happens I won’t be able to fight in this.”

“We’ll protect you,” Dick says cheerily.

“That is a very small comfort,” Slade growls, “Especially since he must be as equally restricted.”

Jason twists and bends effortlessly, seemingly no constrictions, before grinning.

“This one _is_ mine.”

“Why do you have a Nightwing suit?” Slade says, incredulous, but he’s mostly just pissed that apparently, they had enough warning about this stupid mission to dig up old gear because that’s the suit with the stripes down the fingers.

“Ugh,” Dick groans, “Don’t ask.”

“I did a stint as Nightwing back when Dickie was in New York,” Jason smiles.

“I wouldn’t call that ‘a stint as Nightwing.’ I was still there as Nightwing. You were just being a crazy asshole.”

“And you have Red Hood gear that fits you, why?” Slade asks gruffly. So _they_ don’t look ridiculous. _They_ actually look _really_ good in each other’s costumes.

Dick blushes and Jason leers and of fucking course that’s why.

“I’m not going anywhere in this. Deathstroke will have to suffice.” Slade growls and moves to take it off.

“No wait! You look fine, honest,” Dick says, “It may be a little snug but if you wear your own boots no one will be able to tell.”

That’s when he sees the look on their faces, matching heated gazes. Slade rolls his eye.

“You two are some kinda messed up, you know that?” he jabs but moves to pull on his own boots. He’s a stubborn bastard and he would literally never do this for any other reason. But if those looks are a promise of things to come he’s willing to make the sacrifice.

They all pile in to a nice but inconspicuous sedan and travel quietly for a time before Slade can’t help himself.

“So, what the fuck is a ‘comic con’ and why would my target want to blow it up?”

He sees them both stiffen in the front seats before exchanging a sheepish look that he can read even through their dominos.

Slade sighs.

“You know I have real work to do. I don’t have time to play games with you two.”

Dick gives Jason a mischievous smirk from the driver’s seat. One that actually almost looks a little more Red Hood than Nightwing. Jason narrow his eyes and frowns. They seem to have a silent conversation by facial tick that Slade can’t follow.

“That’s it,” he growls, “Turn around. This delightfully weird little adventure is over.”

Dick gives Jason a pointed look and the other man sighs. Then he unbuckles.

The way he slides his body over the center console like liquid is so close to the way Dick moves that Slade’s brain stutters with reconciling the motion with Jason’s larger build.  His playful smile as he sinks into Slade’s lap and straddles his waist is brighter and easier than anything Slade’s ever seen on this kid’s face before, but it would be right at home on Dick’s.

“What the fuck, kid?” he says, a little more breathless than he’d like. Doesn’t bother to try to stop himself from resting his hands lightly at Jason’s waist.

Jason’s hands come up and run over the armored chest-plate, fingers delicately tracing the outline of the symbol there. Slade can’t feel the touch, obviously, but it has heat pooling low where Jason’s Nightwing-clad crotch is pressed against him anyway.

“You don’t really want to leave us yet, do you?”

Slade swallows hard and those blue striped fingers move up to drag where the skin of Slade’s face meets black carbon fiber, followed by little kittenish presses of lips. Dick’s speed has slowed as he watches the scene in the rearview mirror.

Fuck it, Slade thinks, talk about a one-time opportunity.

“Hmm,” he grunts, low and gravelly. Jason gives a little breathy moan and rolls his hips so, so, gracefully. Damn these kids are fucked up.

Slade wraps an arm around Jason’s waist and buries a hand in the kid’s hair. Then pulls it hard, tugging Jason back into an arch and keeps pulling just to see the limits of the this Nightwing impersonation. Limits he doesn’t get to find. He’s pulled Jason’s head back to the floorboard and he thinks the kid could have kept going if they hadn’t run out of space.

He jerks the kid back upright and slams their mouths together. His tongue licking into Jason’s eager mouth, lips moving desperately, teeth scratching just the right side of too much.

Jason rolls his hips into him again and Slade pulls them apart.

They’re not going to be able to do more than this in the car, not in these suits… well, not in the one he’s wearing. He’s already worked up but he’d rather blow his load in one of these two little shits than in his pants.

Although, he thinks wickedly, these aren’t his pants…

No, there’ll be time for that later. Now that the thought has crossed his mind, he’ll make sure of it.

Jason’s victorious grin isn’t quite the same as Dick’s, fewer good intentions behind it, he thinks, but it is glorious in its own way.

“Too easy, old man,” Jason pants and starts to crawl back into the front.

Slade smacks his ass hard enough to feel through whatever passes for armor in something that tight.

Jason yelps and falls back into his seat, still with more grace than he should have. He shoots Slade the disapproving frown that all the Bat-kids seem to share.

“We’re here,” Dick says, sounding bored and a little put out.

Jesus, Slade thinks, they’re going to act like each other the whole time. His cock throbs at the thought.

He stops them when they’re out of the car, nearly at the entrance, a thought striking him.

“I’m not going to act like him,” he says flatly, leaving no room for argument.

They blink at him from behind their lenses. Then glance at each other. The corners of their mouths tug up like they’re trying not to laugh.

“Oh my god!”

They all turn to the voice. Some random, lanky, 20-something, guy is staring at Slade, eyes wide.

“Dude your costume is super rad!” he says as he walks up and reaches out to touch the armor, “What’d you make this out of?! It looks so—hey!”

Slade catches the guy’s wrist before he can touch anything and twists his arm back. Not too hard, just enough to feel uncomfortable.

“Touch me and I’ll break your goddamned arm,” he growls threateningly.

The guy’s eyes get wider and he releases him.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Jason says kindly and it sounds all kinds of wrong coming from him in the same way the vaguely annoyed frown on Dick’s face looks all kinds of wrong, “This is his first time and—”

“Sorry? Are you kidding me? Batman just threated to break my arm,” the guy practically squeals, “Dude, best cosplay. Best role play. You’re entering in the contest, right?” He doesn’t seem to need an answer, “Man, you guys look great.” And with that he disappears into the crowd.

Slade scowls back at Dick and Jason who are trying to school their faces.

“Role play?” he growls.

“I mean,” Dick says with Jason’s snarky tone, “You don’t really have to do much _acting_ to act like him.”

“You’re just… naturally pretty similar,’ Jason says through Dick’s playful smile.

When he huffs out a ‘hm’ and they fidget in their suits Slade resolves to make them pay for that.

 

*             *             *

 

He fucks Red Hood in a bathroom stall. The kid growls and bites and tries to push him around and between the play fighting and how hard Slade’s giving it to him the whole stall structure almost collapses.

They get a lot of angry glares from the line as they leave but when they overhear one guy dressed as Red Robin mumble “wish the real ones would just get on with it and save us all the headache” Dick bursts out laughing so hard Slade practically has to carry him out. It’s the only time he breaks character.

Slade and Nightwing find an empty room and he discovers that Jason’s very nearly as flexible as Dick. The kid has one foot firmly on the floor and the other leg flush along Slade’s torso where Slade can bite at his ankle. He’s balls deep when the cast of a popular television series walks in and stares at them in complete disbelief. They’re both wearing masks and there’s a million Batmans and Nightwings in this place, so Slade thrusts even harder, finishes quickly, and gives the stunned actors a little smirk as they leave. Slade doesn’t think Dick blushes the way Jason does from getting caught.

When they get back to the car he takes the keys from Dick and orders them to fuck each other while he watches. He makes them take their masks off this time, so he can see their eyes, hooded and full of lust while they devour each other and cast hot glances his way.

He’s a little surprised when Nightwing stays in Red Hood’s lap the whole time; when it’s Dick’s fingers stretching Jason open, when it’s Dick’s cock sliding into Jason’s hole. He wonders if this is how they always do it or if they switch off; wonders if they’ll invite him back to find out. When Nightwing throws his head back and cries out and Red Hood just keeps pounding away, maybe even getting rougher, Slade feels close himself. And when Dick flips Jason over and pushes him down on the console between the front seats, grabs his hips and picks up his furious pace, cock sliding in and out right in Slade’s face, Slade comes in his pants.

Well… not _his_ pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, someday I'm gonna get Slade in the Nightwing suit.


End file.
